The Dark Priest
The dark priest tutors me to-day,The dark priest.I turn to the left in the cloister wayTo the inner court with the hollyhock row,And he looks down upon me and watches me go,The dark priest.I climb the stair to his study door,The dark priest,And I knock (I have done it o’er and o’er)Then he opens it slowly and ushers me inAnd I sit on the hassock and lessons begin,With the dark priest.His fingers are long and his eyes are grey,The dark priest.The other boys fear him, so they say,But he throws back his cowl and he lets me seeThe smile on his lips, and he’s kind to me,My dark priest.He takes his viola and tunes it to play,The dark priest,For my Latin’s well read and he promised to-day,And his instrument gleams in the dust-laden beamsWhile I sit there athrill to his music of dreams,The dark priest.He plays an old Normandy love song I know,The dark priest,And the strings quaver back the caress of the bow.The chamber grows dark while his notes ring out clear,But he cannot conceal the slow fall of a tear,My dark priest.K. A. CAMPBELL.
The dark priest tutors me to-day,The dark priest.I turn to the left in the cloister wayTo the inner court with the hollyhock row,And he looks down upon me and watches me go,The dark priest.I climb the stair to his study door,The dark priest,And I knock (I have done it o’er and o’er)Then he opens it slowly and ushers me inAnd I sit on the hassock and lessons begin,With the dark priest.His fingers are long and his eyes are grey,The dark priest.The other boys fear him, so they say,But he throws back his cowl and he lets me seeThe smile on his lips, and he’s kind to me,My dark priest.He takes his viola and tunes it to play,The dark priest,For my Latin’s well read and he promised to-day,And his instrument gleams in the dust-laden beamsWhile I sit there athrill to his music of dreams,The dark priest.He plays an old Normandy love song I know,The dark priest,And the strings quaver back the caress of the bow.The chamber grows dark while his notes ring out clear,But he cannot conceal the slow fall of a tear,My dark priest.K. A. CAMPBELL.
The dark priest tutors me to-day,The dark priest.I turn to the left in the cloister wayTo the inner court with the hollyhock row,And he looks down upon me and watches me go,The dark priest.
The dark priest tutors me to-day,
The dark priest.
I turn to the left in the cloister way
To the inner court with the hollyhock row,
And he looks down upon me and watches me go,
The dark priest.
I climb the stair to his study door,The dark priest,And I knock (I have done it o’er and o’er)Then he opens it slowly and ushers me inAnd I sit on the hassock and lessons begin,With the dark priest.
I climb the stair to his study door,
The dark priest,
And I knock (I have done it o’er and o’er)
Then he opens it slowly and ushers me in
And I sit on the hassock and lessons begin,
With the dark priest.
His fingers are long and his eyes are grey,The dark priest.The other boys fear him, so they say,But he throws back his cowl and he lets me seeThe smile on his lips, and he’s kind to me,My dark priest.
His fingers are long and his eyes are grey,
The dark priest.
The other boys fear him, so they say,
But he throws back his cowl and he lets me see
The smile on his lips, and he’s kind to me,
My dark priest.
He takes his viola and tunes it to play,The dark priest,For my Latin’s well read and he promised to-day,And his instrument gleams in the dust-laden beamsWhile I sit there athrill to his music of dreams,The dark priest.
He takes his viola and tunes it to play,
The dark priest,
For my Latin’s well read and he promised to-day,
And his instrument gleams in the dust-laden beams
While I sit there athrill to his music of dreams,
The dark priest.
He plays an old Normandy love song I know,The dark priest,And the strings quaver back the caress of the bow.The chamber grows dark while his notes ring out clear,But he cannot conceal the slow fall of a tear,My dark priest.
He plays an old Normandy love song I know,
The dark priest,
And the strings quaver back the caress of the bow.
The chamber grows dark while his notes ring out clear,
But he cannot conceal the slow fall of a tear,
My dark priest.
K. A. CAMPBELL.
K. A. CAMPBELL.